The classic croissant originated in Vienna, Austria, but has become an icon of French food culture. With its glossy, bronzed shell banded around butter-rich yeasty layers, it is a work of art and a labor of love.

Whether filled with dark chocolate, almond paste, ham and Gruyere, or simply plain, the beguiling crescent-shaped pastry is the result of time, patience and many rolls, turns and folds with butter. Properly made, it is pure pleasure.

Fortunately, we don’t have to travel to France to indulge in this treat, we can head to Germantown. Gina Olds opened Flour. Sugar. Eggs., a bakery and sandwich shop, on Fifth Avenue North near Madison Street at what has become a flavor-packed corner in the ’hood: Silo, Germantown Cafe and Red Bicycle Coffee & Crepes are all neighbors.

Chances are you’ve already sampled her wares if you’ve enjoyed a croissant at one of our local coffee shops, such as Eighth and Roast or Ugly Mugs. But her retail location, opened in September, showcases a broader selection of her baking talents.

Early start

If you live nearby and happen to be awake in the wee hours of the morning, you might see the bakery kitchen lights on and Olds and staff at work. Ah, bakers’ hours! Each day, beginning at 7 a.m., you can stroll through the front door of the little eatery for a coffee and fresh baked goodie. Or perhaps you’d like a latte.

Or a café au lait. Following my Parisian mindset, that was my choice on my first visit to Flour. Sugar. Eggs. That, coupled with a butter croissant, was as good a petit dejeuner as I’ve had in the City of Lights. Its crackled shell like toasted butter, its tender dough both salty and sweet, it needed nothing — no oven-warming, no dab of confiture — except to be eaten.

Subsequent mornings began with a sampling of sweets and savories: pain au chocolat, the flaky croissant dough wrapped around semi-sweet chocolate; ham and Swiss, with finely chopped meat and cheese melted in the middle; cheese danish, baked in a charming pinwheel, all of which left a shatter of ultra-thin crisps on the table. That’s the sort of mess that attests to the fine butter-lashed layering of the pastry.

Scones are excellent, too. Made with a light hand, the barely sweetened lemon blueberry bulges with plum fruit. Chocolate coconut reminds you of the best of a Mounds candy bar — dark chocolate and moist coconut.

Neighborhood joy

Two kinds of quiche are served daily. The Lorraine (bacon and Swiss) is a menu mainstay, and the second is always vegetarian. Caramelized onion, spinach-feta and roasted mushroom have been recent delectable offerings. What is impressive is the contrast of soft custard — almost underbaked — within the crisp pâte brisée crust.

Olds has assembled a roster of sandwiches, served on your choice of croissant or panini bread. We recommend the panini; the square roll accommodates the fillings and grills nicely in the press. We’ve had the roast beef, turkey and pimiento cheese. The fillings are good, if a little meager (another deli slice would be nice). But it’s her bread and the sriracha mayonnaise that makes ’em sing.

She also offers a trio of fresh salads, which are standalone plates or can be ordered as a side accompaniment to the sandwich.

But here’s a lunch you can count on for full sat- isfaction, at an affordable price: a bowl of F.S.E.’s roasted tomato soup (give it a shake of black pepper) with the grilled pimiento cheese panini. Ask for an extra swipe of sriracha mayo; they are happy to do so.

Get a chocolate chip cookie to snack on later in the day, and grab a baguette to take home for supper.

Flour. Sugar. Eggs. is a real boon (or dangerous temptation) to the neighborhood. The place is small and cheerful, with limited seating. There’s a dining patio in front of the shop, which is a pleasant place to sit and watch the comings and goings on the street. That may be a bit chilly right now, but winter, mercifully, is never prolonged in Nashville.

Nancy Vienneau is a chef and retired caterer with 25 years of experience. She cooks and teaches at Second Harvest and blogs about her adventures with food at http://nancyvienneau.com/. Reviews are written from anonymous visits to restaurants. Negative reviews are based on two or more visits. The Tennessean pays for all meals.